VERY SORRY for the delay. This one is VERY violent. I hope this is worth your time. thanks again.
"My families wealth is a result of one man," Rene said as he walked Lara through the ship's upper suits, "Your great-grandfather... your father's mother's father - he was the second son of a German Barron, and a member of the Kreisau Circle."
"The members of the German aristocracy, and their accomplicess that attempted to kill Hitler. They were led by Colonel Claus van Stouffenberg." She said softly, " My grandmother never mentioned that.
Rene smiled, "SHE was why he agreed to arm the French resistance with weapons, and ammo, under the agreement that she be spirited out of Germany, to England; and that the S.S. be targeted, and regular German army targets be kept to supplies, and sabatoge of train tracks and automobiles, no troop casualties - we tried to keep our side of that bargain best we could. After all, like your great-grandfather, most of the Wehrmacht hated the S.S., and the Nazis as much as we did. He also kept tabs on Vichy collaborators through connections he built within the Gestopo. Those connections led to the owner of the other ruby."
"The one my father killed?," she asked.
"Yes, at first my grandfather didn't fully believe the reports the source gave him. An S.S. officer seemingly invulnerable to any attempt to kill them, and I mean they survived bombings... airial bombings - or so the reports said. The Gestopo had extensive records in Berlin... all except liniage. Odd for the S.S. they had family records on all officers going back 150 years; but on this one, they had none. It was believed they were a member of the Thule Society; and Hitler never questioned their members."
"You are telling me, my father killed a man who fought in World War two? Hw old was he? How did he escape the allies?"
"SHE... vanished in Russia, just outside Stalingrad, before the German's surrendered."
"SHE? ?Father killed a woman"
He smiled,"They called her the 'Iron Maiden'. She would interogate female prisoners... torture them brutaly - then bled them dry, and bathed in their blood... or so rumor had it. All that's known for fact... no women who entered her interogation chamber were ever seen again."
"She operated on the front lines of the Eastern front?"
"It alowed her to 'practice' her interogation techniques in private, that, and she seeemed to thrive where fear, and misery were most prevalent. They never questioned her; they just left her to her seeming madness. Some say she was conducting black magic. And after what I witnessed, I doubt it not."
"What did you see?" She turned to look at him as he frowned.
"The entire incident was sureal; seventy men - heavily armed men - including an entire crew of a Croatian tank, and three suppot vehicals; all of them taken apart by a single, beautiful woman who disolved right before our eyes... in anguish. She was. I don't even know how to say this. She was PERFECT... in every way: flawless skin, hair, her entire being seemed almost too perfect, too beautiful, as if something 'made' her beyond human." Rene said, though his eyes had a look of trepidation as he spoke of the incident that opened his, and her fathers eyes to the fact that monsters were real.
Lara was entranced, "So this was a sort of Nazi 'Boogey man'?"
He grinned, but only briefly, "Or woman... in this case." He took a deep breath, and led her to a huge room, with double doors made of solid lead. There were no port holes, no windows of any sort, and even the airvents were covered in a fine lead webbing. "Keeps the 'energy' contained, if you can call it that." He said cautiously and walked over to a glass case in the center of the room.
Lara's ruby glowed brighter the closer she came to the case, inside which was a twin to her own ruby. The precious stone inside the case pulsed with life, in rythm to her heartbeat.
He shook his head in disbelief, "Even solid lead cannot contain the power of that thing" He opened the case cautiously.
Both rubbies glowed as brilliant, golden lights - bright as the sun.
Lara stared into the warm glow, transfixed. Somewhere, a voice, whispered, softly...
"Countess?," a woman's voice sighed, "You? Don't be so bold girl as to think that title means anything to these vermin... men care for women, yes, but they - as I - will value in you only your considerable beauty... NOT your remarkable talents, mind and resilience. Beauty, how I worshipped it. My vanity became my whole life, the price of my soul. Your father freed me from that curse, but not this prison... I made it too strong, too enticing. Measure yourself as you merit child, not as others value you. I sold my soul for a reflection. Weigh yours greater. I am Elizabeth Bathory. WE are now sisters... Lara Croft; Till you can tear that ruby from your neck, and resist putting it back on."
Lara reached for the ruby on her neck, but was suddenly swept away in a wave of euphoria that threatened to take her to her knees.
She turned to look at the man beside her, he stood frozen, trapped in a seemingly perpetual state of pause... unbreathing, unblinking. She motioned to shake his shoulder.
"Don't waste time girl," Bathory whispered, "You are up against the Devil herself, himelf, itself. THESE apples offered by it are tempting, but this serpent is cunning. Grab my ruby - my spirits prison, take hold of my sins, see the cost of my vanity... and learn my fate for becoming a legend. Then ask yourself: 'who wants to live forever.'"
She grabbed the ruby, certain it would scauld her skin, it felt weightless, cool, soothing, but then erupted in an almost overwhelming sensation of terror, and equaly intense bliss. Before her eyes she saw the entirety of a life lived, unchanged, for centuries, drenched in horror, fear, anguish, gore, agony, and also wealth, power beyond imagining, immortality, and immortal beauty. she saw an unending string of young, beautiful girls, their blood drenching her own skin, and that skin being rejuvinated, not by the blood... but by the terror.
She saw, and experienced the experience of this woman so long feared, and reviled, as all rumors and legends about her were exceeded in intensity and horror, and she sees THEM, the others who seem to never age, never die, never so much as scratch, while all about them is ruin, starvation, disease, desolation. But it was not the faces that astonished her... but a voice, one mans voice, coming through so many different faces.
He was with her when she received the ruby as age began to claim her beauty. He handed it to her. He helped her indulge the ruby and it's thirst for emotions. She felt how, as the young female victims begged for mercy, suffered beneath his blades, and then her own, her whole body flushed with unequal pleasure, growing as the terror increased; and as her skin rejuvinated, grew younger, smoother, lineless. The man became her master in the arts of torture, and murder - and that was only the first time they 'worked' together. The man seemed to have more than a few changes of face, and at some point in the centuries that passed, he displayed a few distinct personalities, some displayed within seconds of one another. The last time she sees him is when she is in Berlin in 1915. He had just handed a 'gift' from their 'god', to an Austrian born private in the Imperial German army... a locket, for a 'promising' recruit that would save the miserable bastards life... three times - and ONLY three times - and give him mastery over those susseptible to control by fear, and hate. She was to join this 'house painter', along with her 'aquaintence', to help spread fear, hatred...terror within the German population; all to reap the whirlwind of unimagined misery he had no choice but to unleash. Hell followed after this.
The final vision she had was of her own father ripping the ruby from her neck as she attempted to gouge his eyes out; and then... agony as her flesh rotted from her bones, and then , nothing.
"Was that a great thing?" the voice whispered, "Was that worth your time in living it? That pleasure for their terror, their pain? You are the only thing I have felt in decades, all around me is empty... nothing. The choice is yours - sister - either sell your soul for immortality, knowing it may be the only wy to stop THEM, or accept death, and failure, to save it."
Within Lara's mind, centuries had passed, and she was uncertain of anything else as she became aware of the fading of the golden hue... including - for a minute or two - her own name, her own true identity.
Then, the arms dealer spoke, as if not a moment had passed between the moment they opened the case and her touching it.
"A good heft to it... frightening thing. Your father tore it off her, just as she was trying to rip his eyes out... after killing all the others. Seemingly in moments. She appeared upon him as if a wraith. She then screamed... as her skin rotted off before our eyes. I felt sorry for her, truth be told."
Lara shook her head, and lowered the ruby gently, as if it would shatter, or explode. She felt exhausted. Rene noticed.
"Perhapse we'll talk later... after we join the others for a drink in your nightclub."
"My nightclub?"
He smiled, "Well," he said, "It is aboard YOUR ship... daughter. Please alow me to explain, once we rejoin your men."
She was flabbergasted, "MY..."
He just laughed, "Come! I will explain all in due time."
...
LONDON - THE NINE BELLS - CLOSING
"'A Dame To Die For'," Sully sighed in his deep Irish accent, looking over a movie review as he sat on a stool at the bar, "Just like our Lara... eh Derek?"
Derek Johnson blushed beet red at the good natured jab.
it was well known among the men at the Nine Bells that the lad had took the job for a third what she was paid, just to work with her, and get to know her... honestly. He was, as the late Alex Weiss, a good guy. he was going over tabs for the night, when HE arrived.
He never heard the bell above the door, he just smelled the man standing there... reaking of something wet, fresh... and decayed.
"The names Townsend," the man, standing inches from him in front of the bar sighed. He wore a longshoreman's trench coat - black; and a worn, peaked cap - black. He looked the youth over, as a snake looks over an oblivious mouse.
Derek signaled to the six three, three hundered pound former SAS man who was hired to keep the peace, and the hands off Lara three weeka after she was hired, and full capacity was not enough to keep the crouds down, or the assholes in check. Derek had been beaten so badly that Lara had had to stitch him up when a broken bottle answered his fist for an unwanted grope of her breast. A good guy.
"I'm a reporter," the man went on, indiffrent to the bouncer stepping up behind him, "doing a report on the recently rescued Countess of Abbingdon... Lara Croft. Do you know her?" He glanced at the giant, "Hi."
"I knew her. Nice girl. We're all real glad she's ok... she an Sam."
"You especially though... right?," the man in black said leaning in toward the boy, "Derek?"
The lad was speechless.
"I bet you've been trying to get her number the moment you saw those tits. I could hook you up. I used to collect women's... things."
Had Derek Johnson been an asshole interested in just her body, he may have not have been so offended by the man in black; but he was a good guy, and honor has a price.
"Get the fuck out of here you tactless ass, before Sully here rips you open."
"You do know me," the stranger sighed softly; then all went red.
Sully had time only to clutch at his gut before dying, as the man in black turned around as if to leave, only to bring his right hand rapidly across the bouncer's exposed abdomen with a razor sharp twelve inch blade, followed by a twin to it in his left, that carved through the giant's neck, nearly severing his head from his shoulders before the trained soldier knew what happened.
Derek had the time only to run into the office, to call the cops. He pulled the door closed as he spied the man in black reach for his own wrist. The dead-bolt slamed home, he took a deep breath and turned.
"I really did sell alot of newspapers, last time I was around here, front page... every one of em." The man in black whispered as he stood before the lad. He was still grinning, not breathing heavy at all.
"You stay the fuck away from her," Derek muttered under his breath.
"Haven't you heard boy?" the Ripper sighed, drawing out his blade, "good guys finish last. Well, in love. I have a message for her that you can help me send... from hell."
Derek swung with his left; lost the hand right to the bone.
"How foolish."
Derek opened his mouth to scream for help. The Ripper cut his throat.
As he lay dying, Derek watched as the killer stood over him, still grinning, "You only have eyes for her? I'll see she gets them."